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Completed Chapter V: Out of Sight

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Jonas Ethil arched a brow, intensifying his inquisitive stare. "Yes, I am well aware of the current development, but whatever could you possibly mean by saying that? As for lacking men, of course I don't - I've two shops in Dunn and both are sufficiently staffed." He folded up some paperwork he had been working on and set it aside, giving his guests undivided attention. "I take it you're not here to apply for work, then?"
 

Maggie

Priestess of the Maker​



Maggie smiles and brushes at her robes. "I have work enough, thank you, Mr. Ethil." She glances at her companions and then looks back at him. "You say you know what's going on in the town? Then surely you know that Lord Brook anticipates running low on supplies before all's finished. But I'm sure a good man like you wouldn't raise prices just on that account - either for your lord or your fellow townsfolk." She smiles cheerfully enough, but it's clear her last sentence is a hint, not just a hopeful observation.
 
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"Ah. So that's what you're here about. Well, I understand the situation. And my prices have not gone up. They're the same as last week's prices, in fact. Check for yourself and you'll see." Mr. Ethil elaborated.


Violet spoke then. "While the city is undoubtedly grateful for you nobly not taking advantage of the situation, we'd like you to do more than that and actually help. We're asking on Lord Brook's behalf, you see."


"Oh?" Mr. Ethil seemed just a bit irritated. "And why would I do that? By the time all this settles down I'd be set so much behind that the competition would run me out of business! How can you ask me to sign my own demise?"
 

Vittorio Valtieri

The Gentleman Necromancer

​



"Yes, I'm curious to see the cause." Valtieri says, as if distracted, keeping his mind open to the presence of necromantic energies that will lead them the right way.
 
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Sanya Sarkov


The Seventh Sword
​



Sanya looks around, hand resting on the hilt of his sword. He preferred to rely upon his own blade first unless the situation called for one of the more specialized blades his fallen comrades used to carry. He was still coming to terms with the loss but he knew how each blade worked perfectly, a Sword had to know. The Seventh just always bore the most average sword to remind his brothers they were all but swordsmen with a single purpose.


"It is too quiet. They are waiting for us," Sanya said casually as his boots trod along the ground. His wild hair shifting a little as he swept his gaze about alertly. He was most concerned in preserving the necromancer right now. Losing one who knew this magic would possibly doom the city to the slow death it was already beginning to feel.
 

Dina Ailsa

Lost Child of Asgard

​



" Your competition will also lower their prices. As for later, people will remember who helped them in their time of need.", Dina said. Her tone held no place for ifs and buts. Dina wasn't sure if what she said was true, but she believed it firmly.
 
Jonas Ethil looked genuinely surprised. He fixed his gaze at the girl, watching her closely. "You seem a bit young to be dispensing that kind of advice, girl. Are you a daughter of a local merchant here? No... I'd know if any of my competitors had brilliant daughters like yourself." The man pauses for a bit, contemplating. He taps the desk with a finger, but not in a nervous manner. "You are both right. Not that it's a revolutionary idea, mind you, but I must confess I hadn't yet thought about it from that angle. But what makes you think the situation will become that desperate?"


Violet introduced herself as a Resistance officer and close friend to Lord Brook, roughly outlining the gravity of the situation, at which the merchant was left dumbfounded. It seemed that the common people in town really had no clue of how serious things were.


"In that case, consider me persuaded. I shall hand out some of the most basic provisions free of charge, to a reasonable amount of course, and I'll put other relevant merchandise on a significant discount for the remainder of the... siege, you said? Disastrous. Please, return to the task at hand. Don't let me keep you."


Violet politely thanked him, extending a thanks on Lord Brook's part as well, and then signaled the other two girls with a smile, and finally turned to leave the room and head back to the street.

*** *** ***

​



Outside, beyond the safety of the city walls, five people bravely traversed the white mist. Yes, traversed. So far they were not magically transported back to the start, as rumors claimed they should be, but instead they found themselves surrounded by fog on all sides. The only visible thing was the ground beneath their feet. Meric and Sanya led the way, with the elf constantly reminding the others to stick close.


"Don't lose sight of each other." he would say.


They progressed slowly for about a minute, when Valtieri's senses finally picked up something that could mean more than just ordinary static. The meaning was one-way. There were Undead nearby. Not a new discovery, but the necromancer could feel them very close.
 

Maggie

Priestess of the Maker​



Maggie nods to Mr. Ethil in polite farewell, adding a smile, and follows the other two out. Once back in the street, she turns to Dina. "Nicely done! And you too, Violet. I hope everyone else will be as reasonable as Mr. Ethil was - that would make this easier. So, who is next on our list?"
 
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Vittorio Valtieri

The Gentleman Necromancer

​



Valtieri pauses. Listens.


"They are near," he says, tone even. "Just out of sight."


He looks to his companions, to their weapons, out into the fog.


"Be ready."


He concentrates, seeking to reach out to these undead by will alone, to know their positions and perhaps to dispel them. If they can yet be banished back to the loam so easily.
 

Dina Ailsa

Lost Child of Asgard

​



" I did not do much. It is only a logical course of action. " Dina was sure she was still blushing from being called brilliant. This was maybe a little too easy. Dina did not expect each merchant to be as cooperative as mister Ethil so she restrained herself from getting too sure of herself.
 

Henvei v. R. Daltzen

Master of Cards

​



Henvei stood quietly for what seemed an eternity, or at least, a few weeks. Presently, however, he graced the elder of the hall with some notice, giving a smile and a soft bow. " ...and to you, pleasant greetings as well." He straightened out, the lack of any applause or at least intrigued muttering disheartening. "It will please you, then, that I have come for a roof over my head, soft carpet under my feet, and perhaps a cup of tea. Even the barest home could supply those."


The Folk had already took to pacing, soft footsteps still echoing off the empty hall. "I must wonder, however, why the lord of the land would see it fit to build one lone man such a grand house? Surely you must find it lonely living, with only the Folk creeping in over your doorstep. There is nothing to fear; we don't bite." Most likely the master had been besieged by the people of the land, begging for some arcane cure to their land's sickness. Henvei, much like the man himself, hoped to stay as far away as he could from that mess.
 

Sanya Sarkov


The Seventh Sword
​



Sanya frowned as his paranoia was rewarded with confirmation. He thumbs the hilt of his sword, kicking it out of the scabbard a bit for a very quick draw. He keeps it only there though for the moment. He couldn't afford to be sloppy at this moment when they needed to get the necromancer closer. The dead were waiting for them which meant there could be someone directing them enough to arrange such a thing. Or it was dumb luck. Fate cared not which for it had thrust the dead upon them and he would drive them back into the ground.


"Let us hope this is a hasty move if we are facing thinking foe behind them."
 




"Agreed, but I don't think this will be a very swift affair we are engaging in." He drew his sword with the glowing orb forming upon the blade's release from the sheath. The dead are not known to express mercy or remorse. We'll have to be careful in this fight.


A'kal looked about with his blade in one hand. He feared that there may be too many. Good warriors they were, but they could only go on so for so long. Those of the grave have long been pardoned of such curses such as exhausting.
 

Bartholemew

The Hunter of Shadows

​



He places a hand on the hilt of his Katana, ready to draw and strike. "Stand together, backs facing only each other's backs. We will hold the dead. We will fight them. It is only what is right." He smiles as he does so, and relaxes his muscles- looking forward to COmbat.


​
 
"The next one is unlikely to be persuaded anywhere as easily." said Violet as the three ladies made their way down the road into the South Quarter. "Leah Zarra is perhaps the wealthiest of the city's merchants, and is a very prominent figure in the Guild. However, successfully getting her on our side will automatically net support from some other traders as well. I'm sure you've heard of her, Maggie." Violet turned her head to the priestess as they walked. "She owns a third of the shops in Dunn."

*** *** ***

​



Meanwhile, not so far away, the first clash took place. It began with a weird sound in the fog ahead of the party, something akin to footsteps, but they had barely the time to prepare because when the shapes emerged from the fog they were practically on top of them.


Skeletons.


Meric shouted a warning but it couldn't have arrived early enough. Rusty but deadly swords cut through the fog, wielded by skeletal beings that tactlessly took the fellowship head on. It was impossible to give an accurate number. Anywhere between four and seven. The only positive thing about it was that only the leaders of the party were directly threatened. For the moment, at least.

*** *** ***

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And for a moment, the old man was left dumbfounded; presumably stunned by Henvei's act. When he recollected himself he gathered the sum of his fears in a single hopeful question: "Then, you are no wizard? Oh...!" Suddenly he straightened out, and began muttering apologies. "But forgive me! I am old and my head is not quite as it once was. One of the Folk! Of course. It is obvious now. Then... you are a wizard, but... Surely not sent by the Guild? That is the only kind of wizard that I can cope with these days, as ridiculous as it sounds. Welcome, welcome, please..." Another apology, but determining that the scholar was not from the local Mages Guild seemed to make the man significantly friendlier and relaxed.


"I am Maester Roderick, at your service. I am the head of this Academy. The empty halls are linked to the dire situation in which the whole city stands, but as you will see are not quite as empty as they seem. But please, this way." He motions towards the right hallway, leading the way while poking the floor with his staff. "Tea and respite I can provide, and will, gladly! It is not often that we house guests of such esteem, despite the relative closeness of the Frigid Wastes - the road has become dangerous again as of late. Few traversed it before, and fewer still dare it now! But where was I? Ah, yes... You will be glad to learn that there happens to be a compatriot of yours residing within this house of learning as we speak. A gentleman by the name of..." Infuriated, the man waves his staff in the air before surrendering and bringing it down again. "Forgive me, for his name eludes me at the moment. It will come back to me before long. Ach, but I don't believe I've heard your name?"
 
The necromancer feels powerful magic lying heavy over the surroundings; power superior to his own. The Undead cannot be turned. However, his attempts are not completely fruitless. He is able to slightly disrupt the necromantic energies that drive the creatures, making them less effective in combat.


A trifle, but given the poor conditions any help to the party is welcome. Valtieri could also sense that the source behind the power orchestrating the Undead emanates from the area ahead and to the left. An uneasy feeling suggests that it's probably coming from the catacombs below.
 

Bartholemew

Hunter of Shadows

​



The Foreigner curses at the Sight of Skeletons against which his blade is vastly less effective- then sighs. He draws it- holding it both at the hilt, and at the base of the Sheathe which he leaves on- intending to use the Sheathe still on the blade as a Bludgeon against the Skeleton's. He sighs- and then he smiles as he speaks. "Skeletons..? This should be a fun dance, eh..?" He murmurs to raise spirits, hopefully.
 

Dina Ailsa

Lost Child of Asgard

​



Dina could not help but get a little nervous... or a lot. They were going after the biggest fish in a pool next it seemed. But surely she will be able to see an opportunity in this then? One does not get wealthy by not taking all the circumstances into account. Well, unless the wealth came as an inheritage. " Let us make haste then. The sooner we have her on our side the better. " Dina urged the girls.
 



"Yes, quite! And then to the next, and soon we'll be done." Sensing Dina's nervousness, Maggie reaches out to pat her shoulder. "You did great at the first one, I'm sure this will go well too. There's three of us and one of her, after all!"
 

Henvei v. R. Daltzen

Master of Cards

​



The scholar's foot freezes in midair. "Ah....another..."


And lands squarely in the firm footing of short and measured bow. "Well met, then, Mes Roderick. I am your humble guest." The scholar's eyes flicker. "Henvei, of Daltzen's line. Perhaps you have heard the name, whispered on the northern winds? Perhaps not, and I blame you little; we travel far less than we ought."


"But enough formalities! Lead on, gracious host, to warm tea and warmer company. I am eager to rest, to collect my thoughts, to hear of the happenings of late." Not to mention, of course, eager far more to see who had dared to leave the frozen strongholds, deep in the wastes? An uncle and his entourage? A squad of lawmakers, here for an arrest? Somebody more familiar.


The scholar's smile flickers again, and this time, he does not recover as quickly as the first time.
 
A left turn leads Violet, Dina, and Maggie to Market Square - the heart of Dunn's South Quarter, and as it turned out seemingly the only place in town where the phantom siege and grey skies didn't succeed in killing the mood.


The square was large and open, unevenly enclosed by tall buildings on all sides. The main street cut right through the center where it turned north and led out. There were a lot of people, most grouped in smaller crowds and the rest flowing freely in between. The bigger, wealthier merchants had setup their shops in the buildings on the rim, while everyone else had stalls lined up around the main pathway.


Violet walked in the middle, with Dina on her left and Maggie on the right. The merchants bellowed; the customers bellowed louder. The distinct scent of spices emanated from the stalls to the left, teasing the nostrils. On the other side a dwarf with a shoemaker's hammer on his belt was complaining about the possibility of rain to his compatriot. Further towards the center of the square a woman on the right was arguing with a merchant about his overpriced vegetables. Someone, somewhere out of sight, was playing a brass trumpet incessantly. That someone was clearly not a musician. Guards were patrolling every here and there. Some of them recognized Violet and saluted. The elf saluted back.


The trio's progress went mostly unhindered until they got very close to the center of the square, where they had to push their way through the crowd. Violet said that the trader they were looking for had her business on the far side. Surrounded by people on all sides, Dina suddenly felt a hand on her bottom. A very non-accidental, brazen, and extremely skilled hand.

*** *** ***

​



Maester Roderick lead Henvei through several hallways and up a wide set of stairs until they were on the third floor. On the way they did indeed pass by half a dozen robe-clad scholars that hurriedly went about their business. One carried a stack a books taller than himself, and another was verbosely explaining to a very bright green parrot why it was bad to repeat curses. Close to their destination, the maester instructed one of the scholars to find their esteemed guest and ask him to join the maester in his chambers for some tea and company. The initiate nervously accepted, as if he had more important errands to do.


Finally in maester Roderick's chambers, the old man asked Henvei to please be seated, pointing at one of the comfortable-looking armchairs around a glass table supported by a scaled down troll statue made of iron. "Shall I make betony? Or coriander, perhaps?" He politely asks, still standing himself.
 

Vittorio Valtieri

The Gentleman Necromancer



​



"Well?" Vittorio says, looking incredulously at the warriors surrounding him. "Don't act as if you'll be more use dead!" Why aren't they fighting?


In an effort to assist, he tries to focus on the link between a skeleton and the source of its animation, then channels power through his staff to try and sever it.
 
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Sanya Sarkov


The Seventh Sword
​



Sanya drew his blade now, moving swiftly as he starts to target the dead closes to them. Hits efforts aimed mainly at dismantling them where he might not be able to slay something already dead. He aims for wrists and hands to shatter bones and ruin weapon grips. Some of his sweeps starting to go love to shatter knee and leg joints. His sword pommel slamming into the occasional skull as he drifts about his initial targets to end them more swiftly. This was only the beginning and he wasn't going to waste more energy than needed with the true foe still ahead of them.
 

Bartholemew

The Hunter of Shadows

​



He Dart's forward- his sheathed blade smashing in to Joints- as he dart's forwards. He swing's- moving forwards and conserving momentum as best he can. He makes use of the blunt and bludgeoning haft of his sword's sheathe, and smiles. They are Skeletons, and must be crushed.
 
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